to the flower of my nights
to the lovers amid the flames
to your eyes eager for life1
to these things that happen
to the horizons at dusk
to hope, why not?
to these wines that warm us
to our drunken boats2
to the pleasure, the desire of leaving everything with a sigh
to the farewells, the always, the promises, the loves
to the darknesses inside our hearts
to the glimmers, to our fears
to your tired heart
to our faults, our freedoms
to our mouths, breathless from too many kisses
to our mouths, breathless from too many kisses
to the resistant bistros
to the alterglobalist children
to the violets, the spring
to the lowly, the socialized3
to the boats beached on the pavement,
condemned to these songs of slaves
to these oceans without a shore
to the childrens of Truffaut4
to us, the sons of Artaud5
to the loves without obedience
to the nights where your rage seethes under a lampshade
to arms of our loves6
to our literary bloods
to us both
to the Earth
to this era devoid of talent
to the glories forgotten after fifteen minutes
to your scent of spleen7
to loving each other under the swan's song
to the meaning of the Words
to the threads of literature
to the borderless countries
to the hammer blows on our nerves
to the armies of cast-offs
to us, the desperate
to our bleeding hearts, to our embraced bodies
to our bleeding bodies, to our embraced hearts
A new day dawns and I see nothing
but silence on the horizons.
In the garden of my childhoods
I think the lark8 is dead.
Of course it will not be easy
but with grazed hands
we'll keep the memory
of my lark in the distance.
Let's follow the tune of the wind in the plains
it will lead us to summer.
And maybe on our way
we could sing the song of the partisans9.
We will be proud, we will be as one
and our blood will be wine.
Our loves to heal the Earth,
our infinite against their nothing.
Friend, come sit at the table
it is sure not fit for a king
but souls around it stand together
and my love will be for you.
The wanderers of dark suns10
away from the lightless cities
kept a hope deep inside,
the hope of the wolf in the glades11.
Our star tastes of sulfur
but shines like a thousand
candles in procession,
like banners on the horizon.
Let's light up under the constellations12.
No, we are not lighting funeral pyres13
we are sons of the Renaissance14
under the libertarian banner.
under the banner
under the banner
of the libertarians
1. lit. "salivating"2. a reference to Arthur Rimbaud's "Le bateau ivre"3. "arborescent" evokes being part of an informal social network4. François Truffaut, a French filmmaker. I suspect a reference to one of his most famous movies, "les quatre cent coups"5. Antonin Artaud, poet and playwright, known for his libertarian opinions6. play on "to arms!" and "to the weapons our loves are"7. reference to Charles Baudelaire's "spleen and ideal"8. "pinson" is actually a chaffinch, but "gai comme un pinson" is the equivalent of "as happy as a lark"9. this one10. possible reference to the "vagabond des limbes" French comic books. One episode is called "l'empire des soleils noirs" (empire of dark suns). The plot of these comics is rather sophisticated, with strong satirical undertones, and the main character is a personification of freedom of speech and thought11. reference to "la mort du loup", a poem by Alfred de Vigny12. lit. "under the big dippers". French name of "big she-bear" sounds more poetic13. lit. "we (the candles) are not funerary14. the word means "rebirth" in French